Fleur was walking across the Hogwarts grounds towards the castle when she spotted Gabrielle sitting on a bench nearby, reading a spellbook. Even at such a young age, her little sister was shockingly beautiful. She was almost as dazzling in the form-fitting blue Beauxbatons robes as Fleur was. Engrossed deeply in her spellbook, Gabrielle didn't even notice Fleur walking towards her. Only when they were feet apart did she glance up.
"Fleur!", she exclaimed excitedly in French. Fleur smiled back, brushing her sister's silvery hair affectionately.
"I'm glad Mother is letting you stay here, Gabrielle," she replied in her native tongue. "You'll be cheering for me at the third trial, I hope?"
Gabrielle bit her lip uncomfortably. "Aren't you worried about the tournament?", she asked tentatively. "The other Champions have many more points than you, especially since you didn't even complete the second trial. Are you sure you can win this?"
Fleur's insides turned cold. She hadn't even thought about that. Gabrielle was right, of course; at the moment, she was placed dead last and her chances of winning looked slim. Yet, she couldn't trouble her sweet sister with her fears. She tried her best to assure her sister that she would be fine. "I'll be fine, Gabrielle. Whatever this third trial is, I'll be well prepared. The other Champions won't even stand a chance."
Her sister grabbed her hand. "Oh, I hope you're right, Fleur!", then looked down suspiciously. "Where are your gloves?"
She pulled her bare hand back quickly. She had completely forgotten to wash her gloves! She kicked herself mentally, straining to think of a suitable excuse; she couldn't just tell her sister they were covered in Harry Potter's cum. "I dropped them in the mud," she said finally. "I hate these English rains."
"Madame cannot see your hands like this," warned Gabrielle. "You know how strict she is about the dress code."
"Don't worry, Gabrielle," she soothed. "Even if Madame caught me without my gloves, she wouldn't do anything. I'm her prized Champion." With that, she bid farewell to her sister and made her way up to the castle, wondering how she could possibly gain an advantage over the other Champions for the third trial.
First she had to figure out what the final trial would be, she decided. Fleur had already asked her headmistress, but Maxime didn't seem to have a clue what the final trial would be. Perhaps another judge would know, but which would most easily be persuaded? Dumbledore's and Crouch's deep sense of honor and justice left them completely out of the question, of course. All that remained were the boyish Bagman and that greedy, sneering Karkaroff.
Rumor had it that Bagman had placed an enormous debt on Harry winning the tournament and would help him win at any cost. Giving Fleur the information she required would mean forfeiting that, something she wasn't sure she could persuade him to do. Karkaroff was also suspect, of course; the moment he found out what the final task was, he'd waste no time in telling Krum.
By this point, she had reached the door to the castle. As she reached for the knob, it swung open and out walked, of all people, Professor Karkaroff, twirling his gray goatee. He was wearing Durmstrang's signature fur cap and cloak with robes underneath. Fleur took a deep breath to calm herself; she at least had to try her hand at him.
"Monsieur Karkaroff," she started. "'Ave ze uzzer judges told you what ze final trial will be?"
He spun around to the source of the voice and found a slender girl looking up at him with intense blue eyes. It was that beautiful Beauxbatons Champion whom he fantasized so frequently about. If he played his cards right, he might get something out of this interaction. His face curled into that familiar sneer, pretending not to recognize her. "Maybe they have, maybe they haven't. What's it to you?" He continued to walk across the grounds towards the Durmstrang ship. Fleur began to follow him, hurrying to maintain his swift pace.
"Perhaps you 'ave forgotten, Monsieur, zat I am one of ze Champions," said Fleur, irritated. She knew full well he had recognized her; she felt his penetrating gaze traveling from her eyes to her body and could guess what he was thinking about.
He smiled, flashing his ugly yellow teeth at her. "Of course, Madame, my humblest apologies," he replied craftily. "What is it you want from me?"
"I was wondering, if…" Fleur hesitated. If he knew what the final trial was, would finding out be worth whatever he'd make her do in return? She thought of Gabrielle and how disappointed she would be if her older sister came dead last again, and mustered her courage. "I was wondering if you could tell me what ze final task will be." They stopped walking; Fleur looked around and saw they had reached a dock at the edge of the lake that led to the Durmstrang ship.
Karkaroff leered at her. "I am one of the judges, Madame. Of course I know what the final trial is. But we are strictly forbidden from telling the Champions."
Fleur tried not to grimace; she had already chosen her path. "If only zere was something I could do," she said seductively, forcing a smile. "I would do anything to know what ze final trial will be."
Karkaroff smiled, a cruel glint in his eyes. He had her. "My dear, I don't know what you could possibly have to offer me." Yes, he did. He could see her svelte young figure bouncing on top of him.
Fleur stepped closer, her head almost against his chest. She caught a faint whiff of his putrid odor and tried her best not to wince. "Let me show you," she whispered, looking up at him with dazzling blue eyes.
Karkaroff grabbed her, surrendering to his animalistic desires, and dragged her onto the ship and into his cabin. It was a large, lucrative wood-paneled room with red carpeting. In the middle of it was a four poster bed.
Fleur noticed animal skulls hanging on the wall and stepped back in disgust, when Karkaroff pulled her towards him and forced his mouth viciously onto hers, tickling her with his goatee. She tried not to gag at his scant breath as she kissed him back. His cracked, dry lips attacked her beautiful red mouth and he managed to force his tongue into her, tasting her. Fleur involuntarily recoiled at his invasive tongue, but he grabbed the back of her head and held her to him. He savored the feel of her breasts pressing against him through her robes, her arms around his waist as she kissed him back.
Pushing her down into a kneeling position, he undid the bottom of his robes and let them fall to the floor, revealing to her his hairy legs and a very erect manhood. Fleur recoiled; his cock was big, bigger than Harry's even, yet ugly and wrinkled, and his pubic hair was a scraggly mass of gray hair. That was going to be inside her? She grabbed it reluctantly, tugging him with her hand and licking his hairy balls, keeping her blue eyes locked with his tiny black pupils. Karkaroff looked down, relishing the sight of her beautiful face against his balls, her dainty fingers sliding up and down his wrinkled cock.
Fleur worked her way up his junk, dragging her tongue up from his balls to his shaft, kissing it as she ascended. When she was level with it, she took him in her mouth and held him there, letting Karkaroff get used to the inside of her mouth. She swallowed him completely, burying her shapely face in his scraggly gray pubes. He watched her magnificent head slide back and forth, hair swaying slightly.
"Sloppier," Karkaroff commanded. The veela did her best to oblige, slurping at him messily, letting his precome dribble on her face. She tore her mouth off his throbbing shaft with a pop of her lips, then sucked only one side of him, her long silvery hair brushing against his thigh. She continued to vary her technique, expertly sliding her mouth along and around his cock.
Fleur was now blowing him ferociously. Her red lips moved quickly as they sucked his cock, her hands holding the back of Karkaroff's legs for support. Still he became bored with her current pace and grabbed the back of her head, shoving himself forcefully in and out of her mouth. The man endlessly abused her, fucking her mouth so ferociously that she struggled to breathe. Karkaroff felt himself beginning to climax and shoved himself all the way into her. Alarmed, Fleur tried to pull off, but the wizard was too strong for her. He held her in place and bucked as he drilled her mouth, nearly choking her with his hot fluid.
The wizard slid out and gave her a second to recover. Gasping for air, Fleur spat a mouthful of semen onto the floor. Karkaroff thought she had had enough of a break, and slid his limp cock back into her mouth. Fleur gagged but was cut off as his manhood invaded her again, growing back to full size as he forced it in and out of her throat.
Forcing her wet lips to move ever faster, Karkaroff groaned with pleasure as he tortured her. He grabbed fistfuls of her silvery-blonde hair and shook her head back and forth, congratulating himself for getting such a beautiful young girl onto his old cock.
Karkaroff sensed another climax and mercifully pulled out of her. "Stick your tongue out," he commanded. Obediently, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth with a forced smile. The sight of the French veela kneeling under him with her tongue out was incredibly erotic, and with a grunt, he showered her face and her robes in his disgusting slime.
He pulled her back up onto her feet. The old man forcefully flipped her around so they both faced the bed, pulling her shapely backside towards him. Fleur laid her head against his chest as he undid the buttons of her cum-drenched robes, grabbing at her perfect pale skin as the blue garment tumbled to the ground.
Karkaroff twirled his sexy prize around again and pulled off her bra, then threw her forcefully onto the bed. He threw off his own cloak and hat, clambered onto her, and began kissing her fiercely as she wrapped her hot legs around him.
The wizard began to make his way down her. He kissed her perfect lips, his disgusting breath causing her to gag again. He kissed her neck and her bare shoulders and mashed his face in her breasts, sucking and licking them eagerly. He kissed her down her flat belly, tickling her with his beard. When he reached his destination, he kissed her underwear firmly and tore it off with his teeth.
First, Karkaroff blew his acrid breath between her legs, causing her to shudder involuntarily. Then he devoured Fleur's delicious candy, soliciting moans from the young veela. Pulling one of her legs up, he licked her treasure, slipping his tongue in and out of her perfectly hairless cavity. Shuddering, she squeezed his head with her thighs so firmly he thought his head would implode.
He looked up from his handiwork. The sight of her curvy body reacting sensuously to his tongue was enough to get him hard again. He pulled the rest of his clothes off and stood butt naked in front of her. Fleur winced at the sight of the skinny, wrinkled old man, yet readied herself for what was to come. Cock in hand, Karkaroff pulled her legs apart and slid into her, bending over and pressing himself against her warm, pale flesh.
Fleur threw her head back and sighed as he penetrated her. Karkaroff moved slowly at first, leaning over her body to kiss her wet lips. Once she had gotten used to his manhood, he stood and sped up. Karkaroff pounded the French veela ferociously, slapping his thighs against hers and listening to her moan as his shaft filled her cavern. She hated him, but she had to admit that he was handling her incredibly well.
He looked down and basked in the sight of his ugly, wrinkled cock sliding in and out of this young, blonde beauty. He wished Dumbledore could see him now. Thin, hairy old Karkaroff, violently fucking the seventeen-year-old veela, Fleur Delacour.
Fleur watched as he fell back onto her, seeing him delight in the feel of her sweaty body. She cried out as he continued to plough her, wrapping her legs around his waist and plunging him into herself harder and harder. Suddenly, she felt herself beginning to climax. She couldn't believe it. Of all people, why did it have to be him that made her finish?
Karkaroff watched, astonished, as Fleur gasped, her back arching and her body stiffening. Seeing the veela climax from his manhood was too erotic for him, and he too could sense himself starting to cum. Upon pulling out of her, the girl grabbed his cock and pumped him until he spilled his seed all over her belly.
Covered in Karkaroff, Fleur lay on the bed gasping for air. "Tell me," she panted. "Tell me what ze final trial will be."
He smiled cruelly, also out of breath. "My apologies Madame, but we are not finished yet." The old wizard grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off the bed and onto her knees again.
Fleur began to pleasure him with her mouth again. Grabbing the base, she sucked the white fluid off his limp cock, then squeezed his stem with her hand. He started to harden. Locking eyes with him, she continued to suck him off, feeling his cock growing bigger and bigger in her mouth.
Once he was back to full size, Karkaroff pushed her off of him and pulled her to her feet, his hands playing with her shapely posterior. Without warning, he flipped her around and pushed her onto the bed again. Climbing onto her, his rock-hard manhood brushed menacingly against her rear cheeks as he kissed her lovely back.
The wizard grabbed Fleur by her sweet thighs and forced her up onto her hands and knees. The girl cried out in pain as his cock plunged into her ass, his hands grasping her firmly by the waist. He pulled her farther onto him, then took one hand off her hips and reached forward. Humping her mercilessly, Karkaroff grabbed her hair and pulled at it, forcing her head back. The sound of his hairy thighs violently clapping her white cheeks echoed through the room. He bent over her again, kissing neck roughly, scratching her with his beard.
This was too much for Fleur. She wanted desperately to be free of this monster and his ugly cock. She hated his yellowed teeth and his stinking breath. She hated his skinny body and his gray goatee. She hated being covered in his cum. Fleur desperately hoped that her rear would at last satisfy him, and she would be finished with this horrible man.
Fleur wanted to end this quickly, and to do that she had to make him cum. "Fuck me, Monsieur," she moaned. "Fuck me!"
This made Karkaroff pound her harder, spanking her with his hand. Fleur fell to her elbows, howling like a wolf. Karkaroff held one hand to her waist and slapped her ass with another, watching as her body rocked back and forth on his cock. Again, he could feel himself coming. He pulled out of her and jerked himself off onto her back, drenching her hair in his semen.
Karkaroff fell onto the bed, panting. He was finished with her, but he had done the deed well. Fleur tried to stand and collapsed, her legs shaking endlessly.
"What is it?", she gasped, struggling to get off the floor. "What is ze final task?"
Karkaroff's face was buried in his mattress, but the veela could still hear a muffled chuckle coming from him. He rolled over to face her. "You silly, stupid girl," he laughed. "Did you really think the other judges would tell me? Did you think they didn't know that the moment they did, I would find Krum and tell him too?"
Fleur's vision went red with fury. Her strength returned to her. "BÂTARD!", she screamed. Karkaroff only laughed in reply. She grabbed her robes, dressing with nothing on her mind but to get off this ship.
She stormed out, tears in her eyes, the sound of Karkaroff's laughter ringing in her ears. Blood pounded in her head as she ran for the Beauxbatons carriage. When she finally reached her room, the girl threw her cum-stained clothes off and collapsed on her bed, sobbing into her pillow.